Let the Sky Fill what's Missing
by Fallen.Debutante
Summary: Rachel gets a therapist following a traumatic incident which brings her closer to Will. Eventual Will/Rachel. "If you really want to even begin to understand me, then you need to understand that I'm the type of girl who always over-exaggerates everything"
1. Chapter 1

**I noticed while writing this that there are quite a few spelling discrepancies between Canada/Europe and the States. As I am Canadian, I left many of the words the way I would usually spell them and ignored what was telling me to do (my Microsoft Word provides me with the Canadian spellings, not the American spellings, of words such as behaviour, colour, counsellor, dreamt, etc.) I'm only saying this because I know that when I'm reading a fic and there are like 25346467 spelling mistakes, I sometimes close it just because it's giving me a headache. (Am I the only one?) Anyways, I think I have pretty good grammar and whatnot. Back to my point, sorry if the spelling annoys you, and don't hate on me because I'm Canadian ;D.**

**As always, reviews are lovely (we Will/Rachel fans have to stick together) and I try to respond to every review I receive. Hope you like it!**

xxx

"If you really want to even _begin_ to understand me, then you need to understand that I'm the type of girl who always over-exaggerates _everything_."

I was ready to get down to business. I didn't care about the pretty little waterfall in the corner of the room or the single orchid on his desk or his clearly expensive suit. This was about me.

"I know I do it. Sometimes I try not to, but what's the use in denying who I am? I don't care if people make fun of my clothes or the way I speak. I won't be happy if I have to spend the rest of my life being cautious around the people I 'love'. If they don't love me back for who I really am, they don't really love at all, now do they? I should also tell you that I have an overactive imagination. At least, that's what my teachers have been telling me since pre-k. I daydream every day. I find it difficult to fall asleep with so many thoughts running through my mind. While they sometimes focus on my future career as a star on Broadway, as they have since I gained the ability to think, they are becoming increasingly romance-focused. And though I find myself temporarily interested in virtually every boy who so much as looks at me - why is that, by the way? - my dreams and ambitions, (other than myself, of course) are always starring one person. The same person. Why can't I just be care-free like everybody else my age, satisfied with getting wasted or baked and hooking up with practical strangers every week? Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to be like that."

"Breathe, Rachel."

I glared at my new therapist as he wrote something down in the simple notebook he was holding. I understood his comment, and that it was warranted. But my _Rachel Berry_ instinct to defend myself kicked in before I even knew what I was saying.

"Dr. Leonard, I am opening up to you, yet you feel it necessary to comment on my breathing patterns? I came to you because I no longer find my school guidance counsellor of nearly four years to be adequate; that, and because she was once romantically involved with the potential love of my life, whom I guarantee I will be talking about quite often. But that doesn't mean I can't find another therapist." In my head I knew I sounded harsh. Maybe even crazy. I can never explain why I act the way I do; I just do.

"Forgive me," he started calmly. "You just put a lot out there. Enough, in my opinion, to last an entire session. I don't usually have such an easy time getting my patients to tell me what's on their minds. However, I'd like to help you answer the questions you've just asked, if you'll let me."

_This_ is why I like adults. They aren't so quick to judge me. What teenager would have been forgiving after hearing me deliver that speech? Finn Hudson. End of list.

"Sorry," I apologized genuinely. "I know I talk a lot. I'm very straightforward and it sometimes scares people away."

"That's nothing to be sorry about. Like you said before, you want to be yourself so you can be sure that people like you for_ you_. That's very mature of you, Rachel. You seem to be rising above what I've found to be the generic teenage-girl attitude. As for your prior comment on teenage boys, I believe that such behaviour is common amongst young women such as yourself. Girls your age tend to like attention from boys, even those whose intentions you do not intend to reciprocate."

"But how do I know if a boy, or _man_, is interested in me romantically or just being friendly?"

Dr. Leonard let a quick laugh escape his lips. It was a nice laugh. "Believe me, Rachel, men often have the same problem with women. Sometimes you just know. And sometimes, you can't know unless you ask."

"He's already rejected me once. We weren't exactly friends at the time. But since then, things have changed. I've matured; he's not actually seeing anyone at the moment. And we've become more like friends. Really good friends." _Finally. _Doctor Leonard cleared his throat as he made a few more notes.

"You corrected yourself before; at first you called him a boy, but then decided on 'man' instead. Do you want to talk about that?"

"Well, he's a little older than me."

"How much older?"

I fiddled nervously with the ring on my middle finger. "I'd rather not say." I didn't know if he would find me disgusting or not. Some people are strongly opposed to significant differences in age when it comes to romantic relationships.

There wasn't one though. A relationship, that is. It was just me, head over heels for yet another guy I couldn't have. Thankfully my fathers aren't opposed to the age difference. The three of us believe that sometimes, those couples _some people _might think shouldn't be together – like two men, for example – are made for each other. I tell my dads everything. They know how I feel about Will, and they're okay with it.

"I'm not here to judge you," he assured me.

"Well," I bit my bottom lip. "I'm 18 now, and he's 32. So...14 years."

"And how are you acquainted with him?" _Wow, not even a flinch. This guy's good, _I thought to myself.

"Well..." I started, unsure whether I was ready to tell him about Will yet. It was only our first session.

"Rachel, like I said before, I am obligated as your therapist to keep everything you tell me confidential."

"He's my teacher. Coach, actually. He's the coach of glee club. Actually, I can't believe I haven't mentioned I'm in glee club yet..."

My voice trailed off at the end. I watched as his eyes went wide with some sort of sudden realization and waited in silence as he tried to collect his thoughts. "W-Wait...You're Rachel. Rachel _Berry_? You're William McKinley's best singer!" The last part seemed like less of a question and more like he was saying, 'duh.' At first I was flattered that he knew me as the best singer in my school. Like, _really _flattered. I mean, I knew I was the best, but I didn't know I had a reputation. As I smiled, however, the look on his face was that of complete shock. My happiness quickly deflated as I realized that this new information clearly freaked him out.

"Oh my god, I'm a freak, I knew it!" I cried, burying my face in my hands.

"No, no! Rachel, it's not that. Girls develop, um... crushes on their teachers all the time. That's why I didn't realize... Oh my. I knew your name sounded familiar. It's just, well, you're talking about William Schuester, aren't you?"

I lifted my eyes to meet his, now unsure what to feel. "How did you know?"

The man silently scolded himself for acting so unprofessional. "Well, he happens to be another patient of mine."

I was silent as countless thoughts entered my mind: _Why would Will need a therapist? How long has he been visiting Dr. Leonard? But most importantly..._ "Does he ever talk about me?" I asked excitedly and perhaps a bit too loudly.

"Rachel, you know I can't tell you."

"But we're talking about my future happiness right now! I _need_ to know what he really thinks of me!"

"I can't tell you that, you'll just have to ask him yourself."

My loud sigh went unnoticed. It was too late; his moment of unprofessionalism was over. He went back to the charade of writing in his damn notepad. _Maybe if I plead with him..._

"I can't! I can't face rejection again! Do you realize that you are the one person in this world who can answer the question that has consumed my mind for over _two years_?" He merely continued writing in his notepad, so I kept talking. "And besides, I don't want to ruin what we have. Friendship is better than nothing."

"Keep going with that thought." _Sly bastard, changing the subject, _I thought.

"This is why I haven't confronted him yet. The situation is so...complicated. The first time I showed any interest in him I was acting like a complete child. I'm ashamed to even remember all the things I said and did. He was married, I was fifteen. But when we _sang together_. Our _voices_. They just matched, you know?"

"Go on."

"I apologized for putting him in such an awkward position. I didn't get over it just then," I continued, and once I started talking about him, I couldn't stop. Truth is, I never really got over it. Maybe I did briefly, while I was dating Finn. But what I felt for Will was always stronger.

"All the things that attracted me to him in the first place were, _are_ still there. Then, a couple months later, he and his wife got divorced. He had a fling with our guidance counsellor-"

"Miss Pillsbury, correct?"

"Yes." _Wonderful. I bet he still talks about her. I bet he always talks about her. _"Anyways, it didn't last long. She broke up with him and started dating someone else. I'm sure Will already told you all the details. But that summer, something happened." I cringed a little at the memory. This was the reason my dads signed me up for counselling in the first place. Miss Pillsbury was a great counsellor, don't get me wrong. But I couldn't talk to her about Will. I just couldn't. I needed someone I could tell _everything _to.

"I was invited to my first real house party. I went with Finn, my boyfriend of the time, who then cheated on me at the same party with his ex. In his defense, he was completely wasted, and I forgave him. He didn't even remember it in the morning. But that was when I decided that he wasn't what I wanted or needed."

"So how does Will fit into all this?"

"After I walked in on Finn and Quinn together, some of the football players who always used to slushie me saw me crying. They said that if I had a drink that I'd forget all about it, and I really just wanted to feel better. So I took it. I didn't know that one of them had put something in it. I still don't know what it was because I never went to the hospital or anything, but based on the research I did after the fact, my best guess is that it was Ketamine. Anyways, all of a sudden I found myself in the basement, being undressed by this guy I'd never seen before. I used whatever common sense I had left to get out of there. I don't quite remember what happened. But I was crying really hard and didn't know where to go. I had told my dads I would be spending the night at Mercedes' house when I'd really planned on spending the night with Finn. I couldn't stay, but I couldn't go home because I didn't want to explain to my dads what happened. I honestly just wanted to forget about it."

I looked back at the stupid waterfall in the corner of the room. Yeah, it was supposed to be soothing, brighten up the room. Maybe it did. But the constant sound of water running was making me nauseous.

I stood up, unplugged it, and sat back in my seat.

Dr. Leonard wrote about it in his notebook.

"I, um, somehow ended up on Will's doorstep. The second he saw I was crying he let me in. He didn't even ask me what happened, he just held me. Stroked my hair. It was really nice." I smiled to myself at the memory. Doctor Leonard was listening intently to my story, with a serious expression on his face. I really did feel like he wasn't judging me. "It just felt so good to be held by him. He was so...warm. He let me stay there for the night. He insisted I take his bed, but before he could force me into it I pretended to fall asleep on the couch. I didn't want to be an inconvenience, though I knew I already had. I shivered happily when he placed a blanket on top of me and swiped the hair off my face with his fingertips. I still wonder if he knew I was faking it. Probably not. He's oblivious."

Doctor Leonard laughed to himself at that last comment.

"Oh my god, you _know something_, don't you?"

"No, no. It's just, you're right. He is oblivious, I've noticed that myself."

I laughed quickly, and then the room went uncomfortably silent.

"If this is too weird, having me as a patient, I understand."

I honestly found it a little weird myself. Dr. Leonard knew everything about the man I wanted to know everything about.

"I find it quite intriguing, actually. Hearing two different points of view on the same story."

"Aha! He does talk about me!" I couldn't conceal the ear-to-ear smile that consumed my face. Will had told Dr. Leonard about that night, and in my mind, that meant he saw it as an important moment in his life. Maybe.

"Okay, you got me. But that's all I'm saying." He was smiling too as he glanced at his watch. "Oh my, it looks as though our session was over five minutes ago."

I found myself sad to go. Not like when I was with Miss Pillsbury. I stood up and shook his hand. "It was nice to meet you, Dr. Leonard. And, just out of curiosity...when is Will's next appointment?"

"Why don't you ask _him_?" He said mischievously.

"Fine," I replied, still smiling. "See you next week!"

I dreamt that night, that I could read minds. And my first victim? Dr. Leonard.


	2. Chapter 2

I entered Dr. Leonard's office for the second time the next week. No speeches prepared - which, to be honest, was rather unlike me. However, it goes without saying that I had thought about our first session (hardly avoidable as it had caused me to fall twice as hard). Just knowing I had a chance with Will completely destroyed any chance I ever had of getting over him.

After quickly welcoming me back and asking me how my week went, Dr. Leonard (thankfully)got right down to business.

"So, Rachel, would you like to continue what we were discussing last week?"

"We talked about many things last week, Dr. Leonard," I replied. And it was true. But I was hoping I wouldn't have to be the one to start things up.

"Well, then," he said, still smiling. "I think we should elaborate on one of the many things we discussed during our last session, whatever you would like most to discuss."

"Did you talk to Will?" I asked, then snapped my mouth shut. I had told myself before the session not to bring him up within the first ten minutes. I glanced at the clock. It had been four minutes and seventeen seconds.

"Did _you_?" he replied.

"Yes. A fact which, if indeed you have talked to him, you would already know. I don't see the point in wasting time by telling you things you already have knowledge of."

"You know as well as I do that I can't talk to you about Will as a patient," he warned. And I did. Not knowing what Dr. Leonard knew was killing me... as were the awkward moments when I'd ask him questions about his_ other _patient, after which he would either change the subject or scold me in one way or another. But if there was even the tiniest chance that having Dr. Leonard as a therapist could bring me closer to Will, I had to take advantage of that.

"I stayed late after glee on Friday," I began. "Well, I usually stay late. But this time I actually had a reason to, other than, you know..." _Trying to gradually gain his undying love_. "I asked him if the name 'Doctor Leonard' meant anything to him."

I smiled to myself as I thought back to the look on Will's face when I'd asked him: fear. Sure, it had given me temporary hope. The classic _Rachel Berry _instinct to painfully over-analyze everything had taken over. Why else would he be fearful, unless he was scared I'd discovered something I wasn't supposed to?

But scenarios such as these played in my mind constantly. He would look at me, and that automatically meant he had feelings for me? He would call on me in class, and that meant he was dying to hear my voice? I'd started to lose my grip on reality, unable to decipher the difference between fantasy and logic.

"He asked how I knew. About you, that is," I continued. "And I told him I was a new patient of yours. We talked about you, it was quite entertaining," I teased. "He was surprised at first. It didn't bother him, though. Knowing we have the same therapist. He trusts you."

"Rachel, this may seem a little abrupt, but I want to ask you something." I figured he'd take my silence as a sign to continue, and he did. "What are your..._expectations,_ in your relationship with Will?"

I must admit his question took me by surprise. To be honest, this is something I asked myself often. Well, not exactly _asked. _More like tried-and-failed-not-to-think-about. But coming for Doctor Leonard, it had been a little unexpected.

"I've imagined a thousand different scenarios in which something actually happens between us..." I found myself reluctant to continue. "Is that normal? Constantly daydreaming about things that are next to impossible?"

"I think so, yes," he said reassuringly. To be honest, I was hoping he'd tell me that what I was wishing for wasn't next to impossible. But of course, he didn't.

"I doubt he has any feelings toward me, other than friendship. He's just... he's such a good guy. He'd never consider... he wouldn't ever..." I stuttered, "Think of me. _That way_. He's too good. I sometimes imagine he knows how I feel, that he secretly wants me too, that my age is killing him inside, that he's waiting until I graduate or until he thinks I'm old enough to make a move. But I know that's all it really is: me, imagining something that would never happen. And I tell myself not to, because it brings my hopes up just to be crushed again. More often than not, I try to talk myself out of whatever feelings I have for him. But in those moments, when I can't help but hope for the impossible, I feel so happy that the sad realization afterward is almost worth it."

I had to take a deep breath after that speech. That happened often. I didn't know whether I sounded completely normal or completely insane. Of course, if I had sounded crazy, Doctor Leonard would never have told me. It was his job to make me feel better. So he just listened. He didn't laugh. It didn't even bother me when he occasionally made notes.

I kept talking. It's what I do best.

"Sometimes, when we're talking, or singing, or even when we're arguing, we get really close and I think to myself, '_You could just lean in and kiss him right now_'. And then I wonder if he's thinking the same thing. We obviously have a strong connection. We never run out of things to talk about, it's just so easy. But it drives me crazy wondering constantly what he thinks of me. Whether he ever even thinks about me after he leaves school for the day. He probably considers me to be just another student." I took a deep breath as I prepared myself to continue. "Or worse. What if he thinks of me as his...his..."

"His what, Rachel?"

The way he asked, I knew he was fully aware of what I would say next.

"His _daughter _or something." I was terrified to gauge his reaction, but my curiosity got the best of me. Still, he remained emotionless.

"Even the fact that I need to ask myself that goes to show how completely _messed up_ I am." I felt the tears preparing to spill over. "That's a question no one should _ever _be asking themselves. If we were meant to be together, then why is there such a big age difference? Why did I have to fall for someone the damn universe doesn't want me to be with?"

I looked down at my hands, knowing that if he tried to comfort me I'd burst out crying. _Why is it that when I'm alone and want to cry, I can't. But the second someone asks me about it, I break down?_

"Rachel, as your therapist I am aware that I shouldn't reflect my personal views and opinions onto you, but that I should instead help assist you in developing your own. However, I feel the need to introduce you to the possibility that our societal values are not reflective of the universe; moral restrictions are a human invention, and human beliefs and inventions are constantly changing."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said with a promising smile," that simply because_ some_ people believe that an eighteen and a thirty-two year old cannot be together, does not mean that the universe is against it. It just means that those certain people are against it."

"And by 'those certain people,' you mean ninety percent of the human population?"

"I'm not saying what's right and what's wrong, because I honestly believe no one person can define that. But just because the majority believes something doesn't mean that they are correct. You told me last week that you have two fathers. Do you believe they're meant to be together?"

"Of course."

"Well there you go. I'm not speaking for Will or for anyone else when I say this, but sometimes you can just tell when something's right, even if everyone else is telling you it's not."

"That actually makes sense. Thanks, Dr. Leonard."

"Good! Alright, anything else on your mind?"

"Actually, I'm wondering if you just gave me hope purposely because you know I have a chance with him."_ 'Tell me something I want to hear, please,' _I thought. He laughed it off. I did, too, simply because I didn't want to make him feel awkward. But it's possible, isn't it?

I just wished he'd tell me.

Will's secrets.

His fears.

His...desires.

And whether or not I was one of them.

"Tell me, Rachel, was it your choice to come here, or was it your fathers' decision?"

"Well, I didn't plan on telling them about that night." _Ever. _"Will didn't even mention it, at the time. I don't think he was being shy or awkward, though. I think he was being a gentleman. He knew that I would tell him about it when I was ready. Any high school student would have been dying to know why I was crying after having left a party, even my closest friends. The new, big WMHS scandal. Who hooked up with who? Who's pregnant now? It's ridiculous, the way they feed off gossip."

He nodded in approval at this comment.

"Will knows me well, and he knew that when I wanted to tell him, I would. I can never keep my mouth shut, right? I, um, waited until after school one day, and to be honest, it was because... well... I knew he wouldn't have hugged me if other people were there. It's so pathetic, I know. I completely over-think things. But it worked. I asked him if he wanted to know why I showed up on his doorstep that night, I mean, it must have been driving him crazy. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. He said, 'only if you want to tell me.' Isn't that sweet?"

I was smiling like an idiot, thinking about the man I was head over heels in love with, and Dr. Leonard definitely took note.

"So I told him. And I didn't cry this time. I told myself not to. But he hugged me forever, as though I was. Um, Crying." I was practically stuttering at this point. "He smelled like mint and fabric softener. Sorry, unnecessary info."

"Nothing's unnecessary in here, Rachel. If you say it, it's obviously important to you."

I was still on the fence over whether Dr. Leonard was genuinely nice, or if this was a charade he had to keep up. He certainly made me feel comfortable. But maybe he was part of some therapist community, where they got together and laughed about their most pathetic patients. That had to be me.

After all, what could Will possibly have to talk about with a therapist? '_I'm too perfect?'_

No, he probably talked about his divorce. And occasionally, Miss Pullsbury.

_And me. _

"He looked at my lips when we pulled away," I stated, rather abruptly.

Doctor Leonard didn't say anything in response to this. I don't know what I could have possibly expected him to say.

"I would normally say 'it was probably just my imagination,' but it wasn't. He stared at my lips. That means he wanted to kiss me, right? I mean, that's what always happens in movies. The guy and the girl are facing each other. And then the guy looks at the girl's lips, then back up at her eyes. To see if she wants to kiss him too?"

He chuckled gently. "Sorry," I interrupted, awkwardly. "I watch way too many movies. Moving on..."

"What happened next?"

"Well, that's when he told me I should tell my dads. Which goes back to your question - whose decision it was to come see you. The answer is, it was theirs. I know it happened a long time ago. At first, I tried talking to Miss Pillsbury about it. She's great, she really is. But like I said before, I can't talk to her about Will. I mean, I don't think my fathers would be happy if they knew _he_ was the topic of our conversations ninety percent of the time. They wanted me to come here because apparently, they think I'm 'sad' ...But I'm not sad because of what happened to me...or, actually, what _almost _happened to me. I'm sad because of_ him_."

"Because nothing has happened between you two?"

"Because I can picture myself marrying him, and he will _never_ think of me that way! Because I spend every waking moment thinking that if only I were prettier, or taller, or older, or more charismatic, that I would have something,_ anything_ to offer him! I run these things over and over in my mind, until I either fall asleep or scold myself for torturing myself yet again. If I can't have him, I don`t want to feel this way anymore. God, listen to me, obsessing over my teacher. I'm pathetic."

I buried my face in my hands, wishing I hadn't just made a scene.

"Oh, Rachel. I just wish..."

_What?_

"You're not pathetic," he continued. "You are _not_ pathetic. I probably shouldn't be saying this, butyou know I have heard the life stories of _hundreds_ of people, and you are nowhere near pathetic."

At that moment I realized something: getting emotional made Doctor Leonard say things he probably shouldn't say.


End file.
